


Head above Water

by Patcho418



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swimming, Background Schneekos, Bumbleby - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/F, Flirting, I don't know anything about swimming so this is probably chock-full of inaccuracies, MerMay, Trans Ruby Rose (RWBY), Trans Sun Wukong, in which Blake is a mermaid and Yang is a competitive swimmer, mermaid au, yes Blake is a catfish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patcho418/pseuds/Patcho418
Summary: "So, you’re Yang, the English major and competitive swimmer with a record to break. You’re definitely interesting.”Forty-nine point o-seven secondsisn't such a hard thing to remember; it's the record she has to beat.ButBlake, the name of the gorgeous mermaid she met yesterday? That's gonna be hard to forget.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWalkingSwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingSwen/gifts).



_Another lap._

Yang’s feet meet the wooden pier abruptly before kicking off with a tiredness she pushes through, jetting herself through the salty water. Her feet kick up water behind her, splashing against her back while her arms take in huge armfuls that pull herself forward. Her head bobs just above the surface, taking in air when she can (but not avoiding the bitter taste of seawater), her eyes trained on the buoy she’s using as a marker for her laps.

She comes into contact with the buoy, bobbing in the water, and Yang hardly stops to even think about how unstable a platform it is after she spins underwater and pushes off against it, losing speed from its give; she keeps swimming, her shoulders burning with each wide stroke, her feet desperate to pick up the pace, seawater crashing inside her mouth with every inhale.

Finally, she’s back at the pier. She rests herself against the wooden support, whipping her goggles up onto her forehead and quickly wiping her eyes. 

“How’d I do, Rubes?”

Ruby looks down at her, her phone held close to her face. “Fifty-three point-ninety seconds?” A nervous smile spreads across her face as she pockets her phone. “Only point-forty seconds more than the last lap!”

“Yeah, and four seconds more than what I have to beat,” Yang huffs in response, leaning harder against the pole as she catches her breath.

“Well, you have been at it all evening. You’re probably super tired!”

Yang nods unenthusiastically. She lets her legs float further out into the cool water, only now realising just how refreshing it is when all of her muscles are practically on fire. She takes a deep breath and tenses her stinging muscles before relaxing them. 

Ruby’s not wrong that they’ve been here all evening; she had dragged her sister out of the house right after supper to be her timekeeper, and between then and now the sun’s gotten way lower on the horizon, gently floating above the water, orange spilling over the soft waves further out.

She sighs again as she brings her legs back and guides herself along the pier towards the ladder, shakily pulling herself up onto the wooden platform. Ruby quickly joins her, bringing over her towel (Yang has to snicker at the fact that Ruby brought the 'American Dragon' towel she got as a kid). Yang quickly tugs it around her shoulders and removes her swim cap to begin the tedious process of drying her often-out-of-control locks. 

_Fifty-three point-ninety._ It’s not enough. She knows it’s probably because she’s tired and her knees are still wobbly after swimming so hard for so long, but it’s not enough. For all her faults, most of which she tries to look past, her biggest is how much she always needs to shine brighter than the rest, how much she feels she needs to be constantly improving herself, be her ideal self.

So far, none of her swim records are quite her ideal self.

When her hair is dry enough, she lays the towel on the edge of the pier and takes a seat, letting her feet dangle inches above the mostly still water as she focuses on the wobbling persisting in her knees. Ruby’s quick to join her by her side, sliding out of her boots and taking a seat beside her sister.

“You’re definitely getting faster,” Ruby murmurs, clearly in an attempt to console her. "I mean, you're at least near the top rankings."

Yang sighs softly, her eyes trained on the orange sunlight delicately playing on top of the water, settling in the moment like a memory. It’s not hard to forget about the beauty of the ocean, the lulling rhythm of water splashing against the wooden pier, the echo of sea birds over the waves, the faint spray of seawater across her skin. If she could, Yang could just float in the water forever under the sunlight and under the stars, free and able to breathe, living in the moment.

Unfortunately, they don’t give out scholarships for just floating.

“Oh!” Ruby exclaims, drawing Yang’s attention to her panicked expression. “It’s, like, already eight!” Her silver eyes fall to Yang, desperate. “We should probably get going!”

A slightly larger wave hits the bottom of Yang’s foot, jolting her alive again, and suddenly her knees are just a little less wobbly. Maybe a few more laps wouldn’t hurt, right?

She reaches towards her bag and rifles around in the side pocket before pulling out a set of keys that she tosses to Ruby. “I think I’ll stick around for a bit, maybe get some more time in. You go on ahead.”

Ruby pauses, the keys dangling between her fingers, her expression a weird mix of concern and confusion. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch you at home,” Yang confirms with a nod. She stands for a moment, droplets falling to the wood below, and begins towards her sister, arms outstretched. “Thanks for being my timekeeper, sis! You’re the best!”

“No no no, get away from me!” Ruby objects, her voice shrill as she steps away from Yang.

“Come on, don’t you wanna give your big sis a hug, too?”

“Not when you’re gonna get me all wet!”

Yang’s laugh is a cruel cackle that only a big sister can have when tormenting her younger sister, and it grows when Ruby struggles to grab her boots, deftly avoiding Yang’s outstretched arms and making a surprisingly quick getaway.

“You can hug me when you’re dry!” Ruby calls back as she races down the pier towards the old family car, scrambling into the driver’s seat and really selling how much she doesn’t wanna get a soaking hug from her.

Yang watches as the car pulls away from the beachside, barely able to make out Ruby waving away at her with a dopey smile on her face, until finally it’s far enough away to be a speck on the road. 

She turns back to the water, inhaling the salty sea air like it’s the one thing powering her at this point. Even now her knees still wobble slightly, but she pays them no mind. Just a few more laps and she’ll be good.

She reaches for her swim cap and pulls it over hair, sets the towel down again, looks towards the buoy to gauge the distance again; it’s not so bad, even with the burning in her shoulders, or with the heavy pants she breathes, or that weird piece of flotsam pinning itself to the side of the buoy.

Her eyes narrow as she tries to get a better look at what’s clinging to the side of her marker. It’s hard to make out, especially with how the sunlight washes over it, clashing with the shadows to obscure its shape and size. All she can tell is it’s big and weird and probably gonna mess with something in her laps, so she should probably go and move it.

It isn’t until she’s halfway down the ladder that she realises exactly what it is, and she’s in the water as quick as she’s able to be, racing towards what is undoubtedly a person clinging to the buoy.

Her legs propel her forwards, every single muscle in her calves and shoulders aching for her to stop, her lungs hotter than she’s ever felt them sear, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up. Whoever this is could easily be hurt or in danger or drowning, and Yang can’t allow herself to let someone get hurt.

Before she’s able to realise just how much she stings, she’s at the buoy and scooping the figure into her arms; they’re skin is weirdly slick, and at first it’s hard for Yang to get a proper hold on them, but once she has a proper grip she’s kicking away again, dragging the weight of two people through the water and just hoping she reaches the pier soon before her body fully gives out.

She’s stopped abruptly by something hard and semi-dry against her shoulder, and she barely registers it as the ladder as she wraps an arm around it for support, her body still in the water, while her other arm remains fixed under the shoulder of who she now realizes is a young woman, hair black as midnight sticking to her dark olive skin and cascading over her shoulders and very much naked breasts. 

Yang’s cheeks flush immediately as she turns towards the ladder, questions flurrying through her head as she pulls herself and the young woman up. She’s a lot heavier than Yang had expected out of the water, but she pulls her halfway up out of the now-settling waves, glancing back to make sure she’s—

She’s a mermaid.

There’s literally no other explanation for the fact that her entire lower half is a single, dark purple fish tail, scales shimmering in the evening glow, black fins flopping against the wooden ladder, strange tendril-like protrusions dangling from her cheeks, a steady breathing from gills suddenly stopping as her eyes shoot open and towards Yang, whose expression is equally, if not more, shocked.

She just rescued a _mermaid_!

The two are still for a moment, Yang trying to wrap her head around what’s happening as more and more questions fill her mind. The mermaid’s eyes meet hers, an intense yellow glow captivating her for a moment as she wonders just what she’s thinking, and why she’s so still in Yang’s arm.

“Um…” Yang begins stiffly, still unsure of how to even speak to a her. “I…thought you were a person just floating in the water and not moving.” She clears her throat, blinks, reaffirms that she’s holding onto a mermaid and not just going crazy. “Turns out you’re actually a mermaid.”

She’s met with a blank stare, barely interrupted by confused blinks at her. Yang wonders if she should lower her back into the water (can mermaids breathe normal air?) or if she should try and introduce herself (‘Hi, I’m Yang, I’m a human who’s never met a mythical aquatic creature before, also you’re very pretty’) or maybe she should just drop her back in and run as far as she can (this can’t _possibly_ be real!).

Instead, she stays exactly where she is, waiting for the mermaid to do or say anything.

A soft murmur escapes the mermaid’s lips, and Yang leans closer to hear her repeat herself, her voice raspy and low: “Please put me back in the water.”

Yang’s eyes widen and she instantly loosens her hold on the mermaid, letting her slide out of her arms and back into the water with a splash and a slight yelp from the mermaid. She hangs from the ladder, her body still, as she looks over the bay for her, only slightly hoping to see her re-emerge if only to see if she’s actually okay.

Enough time passes without any resurfacing for Yang to make her way up the ladder and back onto the pier. The moment her feet are on a solid platform, her heart begins racing and she collapses to her knees. That actually happened. That was actually a mermaid! She definitely wasn’t dreaming or going crazy or anything. One-hundred percent a real-life, breathing mermaid.

She’s quick to dry herself off with her towel and remove her swim cap and goggles, idly tossing them into her bag.

_I can’t believe that actually happened?_

She slips into her shorts and throws her shirt on, fingers still trembling as she presses each button through their hole.

_An actual mermaid. I touched an actual mermaid._

She grabs her phone and checks the time, her feet already stinging before the walk home.

_And she was beautiful._

She stops, turns around, hoping that maybe she’ll catch one more glimpse, still amazed and more than curious; again, there’s nothing.

*

The sun is completely gone by the time Yang walks through the front door. She’s immediately thankful for the air conditioning that cools her clammy skin—summers in Patch are the absolute _worst_ —as she makes her way towards the kitchen, even more thankful that the fridge is as cold as it is. She reaches in, grabs a yogurt drink that she shakes maybe too vigorously, and downs it in practically one gulp.

As she reaches for another, she hears a chuckle from the dining room beside her. “You know, I’m pretty sure most of our grocery money goes towards buying you those things.”

Yang turns to her dad; he’s sitting at the table, sitting in front of his clunky laptop and shooting her a sarcastic smirk. “Yeah, well, they’re good for you.”

“Are they though? I don’t think they are,” he shoots back.

“Calcium, dad! I need strong bones you know!” 

His smile falls and his expression softens as he turns back to the laptop, tapping a couple of the keys before giving Yang a sidelong glance. “How was swimming?”

Yang frowns. “It was fine.” She knows it’s a lie, but she can’t just go around telling anyone and everyone that she met a mermaid, not even her dad. _Especially_ not her dad. She wishes she could be more open with him, but sometimes things just aren’t what you want them to be. She leans against the fridge and lifts her second yogurt drink to her lips, pausing only to add: “Didn’t beat the record.”

“You know,” he begins, his voice taking on that ‘dad’ tone she used to find so endearing, “you don’t have to push yourself this much. It’s okay to take breaks. It’s actually better for you!”

“Got it, dad,” Yang acknowledges in a low voice; that’s so not what she’s talking about, but what did she expect being vague about her swimming to him? She tosses the yogurt container into the blue bin and swings her bag over her shoulder before heading towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Please do, you smell like you just hugged a fish!”

_Oh, you have no idea, dad._

Everything she does that night is hurried. She showers until she can just barely smell seawater on her anymore and barely allows her hair a chance to dry by the time she’s brushing her teeth and rushing to her room.

Her computer hums to life as she pulls herself over to it and pulls up Google. Her fingers hover above the keys as her mind tries to put into words exactly what she’s trying to figure out, what she’s trying to ask.

Start easy: ‘mermaid’.

Well, she gets the Wikipedia page for mermaid and a bunch of sighting videos and articles she’s entirely sure are false (after seeing one up-close, she knows that they don’t look like _that_ ).

Still, not the worst place to start. After all, she can’t be the only person who’s seen a mermaid ever. There’s gotta be something.

*

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She searched for hour last night until she could barely keep her eyes open. She spent all morning skimming through articles over her coffee. Even on the long commune to class, she tore through every page and focused on every second of every Youtube video that turned out to pretty much be a hoax. She even ended up on some pages she’s now sure she’s just a little uncomfortable with (no matter what people say, some conspiracy theories are just a little too haunting), but it all came up the same, and the same was nothing that she could use to figure out just what had happened yesterday.

Her morning classes breeze by, though mostly because she’s hardly paying attention to any of the lectures; instead, her mind wanders back to yesterday, to the shine of amber in her eyes, the shimmer of her tail against the sun-kissed water, her steady breathing against her own skin. Part of Yang wants to see her again because of course she wants to see a mermaid again, but another part of her can’t shake how beautiful she was from her mind.

The prof dismisses the class, and Yang is already halfway out the door before her textbooks and laptop are in her bag; of course, her note page is completely empty, but she’ll just get the notes from Sun later—he owes her, after all the times he’s skipped or missed (skipped) classes.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out to see who’s texting her; Weiss, and she’s already halfway through texting Yang another lengthy message it seems.

Yang doesn’t care about interrupting her and sends her a winking emoji, knowing how much it bothers her when she’s interrupted between texts (somehow she gets less irritated when people interrupt her in regular conversation).

> `W: Yang, meet me at campus centre. It’s an emergency.`
> 
> Y: 😉
> 
> `W: It’s not like an ‘emergency’ emergency, it’s a Pyrrha emergency. Please  
>  be quick, I’ll buy you a milkshake.`
> 
> `W: Don’t interrupt me or you won’t get that milkshake.`

Yang can’t say she’s not won over by free milkshakes, and she’s even less impervious to promises of gossip about Weiss’ disastrous love life, but the idea of talking about Pyrrha does make her pause for just a moment. Things have been…well, they’re not tense anymore, plus Yang’s so not the type to hold a grudge (she hopes), so she pushes down whatever lingering hang-ups she has and heads to campus centre to meet up with Weiss. Maybe this will be enough of a break to get her mind off of searching for that mermaid.

As promised, her friend is there with a milkshake for her in one hand and a sour look on her face.

“You’re late, Yang.”

“Am I?” Yang slips her bag off of her shoulders and puts it down on the empty chair between them. “I just got out of class and you expect me to just teleport here?”

Weiss sighs, cedes the cup to Yang, straightens her back. Then, her face takes on a sarcastic expression and she adds: “If you could, you’d probably still be late.”

“Whatever,” Yang chuckles, taking a large sip of her milkshake. “Sounds like it’d be a stupid power anyways.”

“Well, we didn’t meet up to have a discussion about superpowers. We have to talk about—”

“Pyrrha? Yeah, I know.” Her eyes light up and she leans in, maybe too close for Weiss’ comfort but Yang’s always enjoyed tormenting her like this. “Did you ask her out? Did she say yes?”

“No, but—” God, Yang always hates Weiss’ ‘no, but’s, as if all the other ones have led to anything but disaster; in fact. Yang only remembers one that didn’t, and that led to some revelations Yang had seen coming a mile away (but both Weiss and Neptune were too thick to anticipate). 

Yang had known Weiss for far too long, including all of her quirks, her likes and dislikes, and every little hint that she was by far the most closeted lesbian she’d ever met in her life (no thanks to her asshole dad). They’d met when Weiss had transferred in high school, and despite how much they often got on each others’ nerves, Yang and Ruby were both adamant that Weiss was family, teasing and everything included, which wasn’t so hard to accept given how often Weiss was at their house (she often claimed it was because her apartment was miserable, but Yang knew that meant it was actually lonely).

This wasn’t the first stupidly elaborate plan Weiss had concocted to try and break her streak of three years without a girlfriend, and without Yang’s help it would probably not be the last, but that’s only if Yang is actually willing to go along with it.

“—and I was thinking, since you two swim together, maybe you could take me along and I could swim a few laps!”

At that, Yang just barely manages to swallow down her milkshake without choking on it, immediately turning her attention back to Weiss after her throat’s done burning. “You? Swim a few laps? Weiss, you’re a twig! You’d literally drown!”

“I—hey! I have endurance!” she huffs, that familiar stern expression returning to her face. “And it’s not like I don’t look good in a swimsuit. I’d be turning heads.”

“Would you?” Yang prods, her voice croaked and high (something she’s unfortunately picked up from Ruby).

“Yes! Just wait until you see it and you might reconsider rejecting me in senior year!”

Yang sits back in her chair, a devilish smirk stretching across her lips at how much fun she’s having teasing Weiss _and_ that she got a free milkshake out of it. Still, despite that, she’s here for a reason, and it’s not just to stop thinking about mermaids and finding more and more hoax videos on Youtube. 

Her thoughts shift back to Weiss’ plan, or at least what she really heard of it. It’s not Weiss’ worst, per se, but a couple factors just don’t line up for it to come together how she wants it to. Namely—

“I, uh…I don’t swim at the pool that much anymore. I’m mostly down by the pier with Ruby these days.” 

Weiss’ eyes light up. “Great! Well, we can go there then! That’s even more romantic!”

“No!” Yang shocks even herself with the force of the words, like a bullet out of her mouth, uncontrolled and from a place in her chest she wasn’t even expecting.

Weiss’ eyes level, glare at her with a defensive upset. “What? Do you have something better to do?”

She’s pretty sure she’s hurt Weiss, but she can’t know. Of course her mind swims back to last night, to the mermaid in the bay, to how she’s pretty sure by some dumb mermaid law she’s not supposed to tell anyone about what she saw and by how insanely attractive she was she kinda doesn’t want to. 

Excuses swim in her mind before she finally settles on one she thinks will work. “It’s, like, kind of a special sister place. Ruby’s pretty adamant about no one else going there.” Yeah, that should do it.

Weiss sighs again, but the disappointment falls from her face, replaced by a sad, maybe even desperate, pout. “Okay, well, could you maybe just ask her? I…really like her.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any.”

“Yang!”

“You’re right. This is, like, kind of an emergency.”

Weiss huffs, but there’s a warmth to it that Yang doesn’t ignore. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had any luck, either.”

“Nope, you’re right about that!” Yang chirps, and it’s not a lie, but she for sure wishes it was. She takes another sip of her milkshake and turns back to Weiss with a soft smile. “Alright, I’ll ask her. She’ll probably say yes, anyways. But you owe me, alright?”

Weiss’ hands quickly meet Yang’s forearm as she beams in excitement. “Oh, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!” She gathers her bags and books and stands to leave. “Oh, and your milkshake is payment for doing this! Thank you!”

“Hold on,” Yang coughs, standing to stop her, even though she’s already at the door. “This was for meeting you here!”

“Consider it your advance payment!”

“That’s not how this works! That’s not how any of this—you’re a _business major_!”

Yang sighs, looking at the milkshake that manipulated her into this agreement (it is an extra large, and also probably the best milkshake in Vale, but that’s beside the point) before taking another gulp and watching Weiss leave, a notable bounce in her step.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and searches through her contacts for Pyrrha’s number; it’s been a while since they’ve talked, and she knows that since the last competition things have gotten less heated between them, but something tells her to wait, to reconsider, to remember how heated things got (and just how easily they could get that heated again).

But she made a promise, and Yang keeps her promises.

> `Y: hey Pyrrha, you free to go swimming some time this week?`
> 
> `P: . . .`

*

So, Yang has until Wednesday. That’s when Pyrrha says she’s free next, and of course the conversation was way less tense than Yang had anticipated (Pyrrha really can’t hold a grudge, and Yang likes to think she’s the same). 

Wednesday, two days until Weiss’ ‘no, but’ is put into action, something that Pyrrha seemed a bit more than pleased about and Yang can barely contain her laughter at how useless the two of them are. 

Two days for Yang to try again and beat that record.

 _Forty-nine point o-seven seconds?_ Piece of cake.

She pulls up on her bike close to the beach, her eyes scanning the water for any mysterious aquatic women hanging onto stray buoys, almost disappointed when she doesn’t catch sight of anything. All day she’d been just barely able to keep herself from opening that twelfth (twentieth) tab to try and find anything, only held back from doing so by texting back and forth with Weiss about how well this plan was definitely going to go.

Still, it would be nice to see her again, even if just to have some sort of peace of mind after their last encounter was, well, awkward, to say the least. After having been so mesmerized the first time and being able to just barely keep her sanity for the rest of the day, maybe Yang could’ve properly introduced herself, learned more about her, and of course ended up with a hot mermaid girlfriend.

She rolls her eyes and swings her leg over her bike before quickly stripping off her tank top and shorts and making her way down the pier, bag slung over her shoulder. She rifles through one of the side pockets, grabbing her goggles and swim cap before setting her bag on the wooden planks.

The sky’s a bit more overcast today, and Yang can already feel the chill on her skin, almost dreading how much colder it’ll be in the water. It’s not as if she won’t do it, she’s gone through way worse, after all, but after the heat of yesterday, this is a bit of an unwelcome shift.

She sits down at the edge of the pier right beside the ladder, able to feel just how cold the water is without her feet breaking the surface. Not so bad, she can do this. Deep breath, warm up a bit. She scoots closer to the edge and looks into the water, seeing her own face in the soft waves. It’s surprising, seeing the worry on her face when she’s telling herself the exact opposite: _You’ve got this._

Yang sighs; of course she’s got this. She’s going to take the plunge, the one few do. Screw the cold, screw her own doubts, she’s got a record to beat. She shuffles closer to the ladder, her heart racing, her knees already wobbling, her mind set on that buoy she’s gonna swim to. 

“Another lap?”

Yang freezes, eyes wide, arms up and ready to punch whoever’s trying to sneak up on her. There’s a trail in the water, and Yang watches from the pier as a face breaks the surface of the water just below her.

It’s the mermaid.

Yang wants to unfreeze immediately, relax her arms and play it cool; she can be cool, after all. Instead, she remains in place, though at least she can feel her eyes focus in on the mermaid casually lying in the water, a curious but coy smirk playing across her lips.

“That’s what you were doing last time, wasn’t it?” she continues, her voice less raspy than last time. Yang remains still, hoping that her mouth will be the next part of her to come back into focus. The mermaid’s yellow eyes remain fixed on Yang’s, and they soon turn thoughtful as she patiently awaits a response from her.

“Yeah, I…wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here again,” Yang manages, thankful that she can at least talk again. Soon, her shoulders relax, too, and she’s able to shift forward to more closely see her (and thank god the water’s obscuring the rest of her body, Yang’s sure she can’t get any redder than she is). 

“Why not?” the mermaid questions, her voice low and accusatory. “Did you not want to see me again?”

“No! No, the opposite! I was definitely wanting to see you!” Yang stutters (god, she hasn’t stuttered in _years_ ). “I mean, how could I not? You’re a mermaid!”

She giggles against the water, which is probably the cutest thing Yang’s ever seen, and looks up with a glint in her eyes. “You act like you’ve never seen a mermaid before, human.”

Yang scoffs. “Well, probably cause I haven’t. Not unless you count the numerous hoax videos I watched all morning.”

“Sounds like you couldn’t stop thinking about me,” she notes coyly, and well she’s not entirely _wrong_ , but that’s not how Yang would put it. Or maybe it is. Yup, it definitely is.

She clears her throat, takes a breath, tries not to freak out about the fact that she not only saw a mermaid, not only held a mermaid, but is now talking to a mermaid. “Well,” she begins, as a good a place as any in her situation, “apparently meeting a mermaid for the first time in your life fills your head with a lot of questions. I was half-tempted to rewatch ‘The Little Mermaid’ for research.”

“Ugh, don’t,” she warns teasingly, rolling her eyes. “It’s grossly inaccurate.”

“Well then what is accurate about mermaids?”

The mermaid purses her lips, pensive for a moment as her eyes dart between Yang and the water. Yang can’t stop her mind from filling with more and more questions the longer she remains silent, desperate to know if even just to know; after all, does anyone know anything about mermaids?

Suddenly, the mermaid leans backwards, her body floating to the surface of the water, as she crosses her hands over her naval. Yang’s face flushes red—of course she’s still not wearing anything—but she keeps her eyes on the mermaid’s face, which retains its mix of curious and coy.

“Well, I can tell you that we don’t wear seashell bras, we don’t need evil curses to get toes, and we definitely know what forks are.”

“Alright, check those off my list of questions,” Yang jokes, though suddenly the seashell bra thing makes just a bit more sense. “What else?”

“If you want more you’re gonna have to come in the water.”

Yang’s eyes fall to the water below her; it’s probably not so cold, and there’s nothing wrong with just floating for a bit. She then lifts her eyes back to the mermaid, who’s smirk is now apparent, and Yang finds it just a bit too enticing.

“You’re not, like, doing that to lure me into the water and eat me, right?” she says, her voice hiding how nervous the thought actually makes her.

That manages to get enough of a laugh out of the mermaid to set Yang at ease, her back relaxing and her breathing returning to normal. 

“No, nothing like that. I’m not a Siren,” she replies through her laughs. “I mean, I’m technically a carnivore, but that’s more for tuna.” 

Hearing that really shouldn’t be hot, but Yang can’t stop herself from blushing at hearing that. She laughs away the joke, trying to hide the pink of her cheeks as she steadies herself against the ladder. “I’m coming in, then, but I’ll be very pissed if you’re lying to me.”

Her feet break the surface of the water—it’s about as cold as she was expecting, but her own blushing is probably why she’s not shivering so much. As she continues to lower herself down, she feels something thick and scaly slither across her calves, and she freezes again for just a moment before remembering exactly who she’s getting into the water with.

The mermaid shoots her an impressed glance. “You _are_ strong. I kinda thought you might be after how fast you were swimming last time.”

“You saw me swimming laps?” Yang questions as her body finally submerges, her head poking out above the surface as she treads water.

“Yeah, I was sorta wondering what that was about.”

“Well, I’m a competitive swimmer on my university team—you know what university is, right?”

The mermaid shoots her a glare. “I’m a mermaid, not an idiot. We know what human universities are.”

“Right,” Yang says sheepishly. “Well, there was a competition a few weeks ago, and I didn’t quite do as well as I’d wanted to, so I’ve gotta train for the next one. Plus I kinda just like doing it here. There’s something nice about not pool water, you know?”

“Yeah, I don’t envy you. Pool water sounds like sounds like a nightmare.” The mermaid swims closer to her, resting a hand on her chin in interest.

Yang shrugs exaggeratedly. “It’s not so bad once you get used to the nasty taste and smell of chlorine. I think you’d like it.”

“And what makes you say that?” she asks, though she’s clearly playing along with the tease. “You barely even know me.”

“You seem like the type of mermaid who’d enjoy it, is all.”

She huffs, though her lips remain in a smile. “Guess you don’t know me all that well, then.”

Yang feels her heart beat harder against her chest, thankful that the water is as cool as it is so she doesn’t have to feel just how hot her cheeks are. This mermaid is clearly playing with her, and in the weirdest way Yang doesn’t quite hate it; how could she, when she’s as beautiful as she is and oh-so-definitely flirting?

She puffs out her chest and puts on her best smile. “Maybe I’d like to get to know you more.”

There’s a pause. The water sits between them, the air stilling as the two of them look at each other. Yang’s not quite sure what her eyes are saying now, only that she’s hesitant, choosing her words carefully, and she’s starting to think maybe she should have done the same.

“Well,” the mermaid begins, very slowly and carefully, as if she’s still piecing the sentence together, “I think I’d rather get to know you a bit more, human girl.”

Yang sighs in relief; she’s still a little wary, watching how the mermaid regards her closely, as if she wants to focus all of her mind on her. People have their secrets, though, that much Yang understands, and mermaids probably have double the secrets. For now, it doesn’t bother her; besides, she can talk about herself, it’s not that hard.

“For starters, I’m Yang. And I’m, well, a swimmer. Also an English major, that’s more or less for the scholarship part, though.” She pauses, wondering just what else she can tell her before it gets either too bland or too personal; she’s comfortable sharing most things, but of course everyone has their secrets.

The mermaid nods and swims closer. “So, you’re Yang, the English major and competitive swimmer with a record to break.” Yang watches as her amber eyes dip just below her collarbone and back up again, her smile soft. “You’re definitely interesting.”

“Me?” Yang exclaims, splashing up a small bit of water with her exaggerated reaction. “You’re the mermaid!”

“Yes, I am. And you’re Yang the human. I don’t get to meet many humans.” She pauses again, that hesitant expression on her face again, and Yang’s once again careful not to pry, not to ask too much. 

The expression shifts after a quick moment to a look of excitement as she practically swims right up against Yang’s body (and Yang can definitely feel that tail gliding along her calf again). 

“You came her to swim some laps, right? Why don’t you get a few done, I’ll keep time for you.”

“You can do that?” Yang teases.

Again, she shoots her a dismissive glance. “Mermaids know how to count, Yang.”

“Well, you’d better start counting then!” Yang shoots back as she readies herself against the wooden beam behind her. She quickly glances over to the mermaid beside her, who offers her a small smile. Yang smiles back, hers less veiled and more earnest. “What do I call you, then? If I’m Yang the human, what’s your name? Or do I just keep calling you ‘mermaid’?”

The mermaid giggles again against the surface of the water. “Blake,” she says. “You can just call me Blake.”

“Blake,” Yang repeats, engraving the name in her mind like another record, another thing to remember, another thing to work towards. “Well, Blake, I’m ready when you are.” 

She winks at Blake—the first time she’s really felt her control coming back to her this whole wild meeting, and she swears even for a moment that Blake’s blushing, too. Maybe she is, maybe it’s the cold on her skin, but Yang shoots into the water before she’s able to tell, her legs kicking water onto her back. 

As she swims, a surreal sense washing over her, distorting her sensations, and by the time she’s able to figure anything out, she’s at the buoy, kicking off from it again as it wobbles beneath her feet, and she watches as Blake and the pier grow closer and closer until she’s back at the wooden pillar, launching herself back into her third, then her fourth lap, both of which she completes without registering it quite fully.

Blake smiles. “Fifty-two seconds. You’re impressive, Yang.”

“Thanks,” Yang offers, her head still settling from the sensation of swimming in Blake’s presence. “Still not the number I’m trying to beat.”

“Are you going to try again?”

“Are you asking me to stay?” Yang asks with a smirk.

Blake shrugs, and Yang’s absolutely certain now that she’s blushing. “Like I said, I think you’re interesting.”

Yang’s smirk grows as she readies herself again for her next lap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, she bolts upright. “Hey, you guys don’t mind if I step out for a bit, right? Gonna go for a walk.”
> 
> Weiss frowns slightly; Yang’s spontaneity isn’t new to her, but she doesn’t think she could ever get used to it. A quick sigh escapes her lungs and she moves to collect her bag. “I guess I probably should be getting home eventually…”
> 
> “Great!” Yang exclaims. “Ruby, you can take her, right?”
> 
> Ruby’s head peers up from over the couch. “Sure!”
> 
> Yang moves swiftly as she readies herself far too excitedly for her walk, and Weiss pretends not to notice how she quickly grabs her swim bag, though she’s understandably confused when she slips a container of stir fry into her bag as well…

Weiss slots her key into the doorknob and turns; when it doesn’t unlock, she sighs, violently shakes it, and muffles a scream before she’s finally let into her dingy apartment. She tiredly places her satchel on the chair by the door and makes her way to the tiny kitchen/dining room/living room/study.

Her stomach rumbles; she hasn’t eaten in _hours_ , and she’s just starting to feel it now. After all, she’s been studying late again, and it’s not like the food on-campus is particularly wallet-friendly, unfortunately. In the two years she’s been studying business, she’s had to learn how to eat cheap, think cheap, live cheap. It’s far from glamorous, and it’s for sure not her favourite life experience. Still, she’s on her own, choosing what she wants in life, and she’s far away from her father’s influence, so if she has to eat Kraft Dinner once more this week to keep it that way, then she’ll eat Kraft Dinner once more this week.

As she searches for a pot, her phone vibrates in her back pocket, and her mind immediately jumps to the idea of getting a text from Pyrrha before remembering that she really doesn’t have a reason to be texting Weiss. It’s been months since they’ve shared a class together, and apart from the few times they’ve waved to each other on campus (and the fewer times that Weiss has taken a hopeful detour past the swimming pool on her way to class), tomorrow is going to be the first time in a while they’ve actually spoken to one-another; lord forgive her for being a bit excited!

She reaches for her phone, now fully expecting it to be one of her classmates asking about something for their assignment or one of Neptune’s desperate texts that she’s all but ignoring at this point. Instead, she’s greeted by a text from Yang.

> `Y: stirfry at my place. you in? I can send ruby to pick you up`

Weiss barely has to think about her answer before texting Yang back and readying her Tupperware.

*

To call Yang’s cooking anything less than incredible would be a mistake, something Weiss had learned when she first got to eat dinner with her and her family. 

_(“You’re not doing anything tonight, right?” she’d asked after the bell dismissed them from history and once their teacher had held them back until she was done the lesson._

_Weiss had known she couldn’t lie to Yang, and it had been so apparent for the previous few weeks how often she’d been trying to get her away from her family; Weiss never wanted to admit back then how grateful she was for it. She'd had a reputation to keep._

_She made sure to tell her since then as often as she could._

_“And what did you have in mind? I want to prepare my answer before I get your hopes up.”_

_Yang smirked, rolled her eyes. “Alright, but no one says no to Yang Xiao Long’s pork tenderloin!”_

_Weiss pressed her lips together as her eyebrows dipped; while she was never one to accept random meal offers, that oh-so-confident twinkle in Yang’s eyes presented a challenge that she willingly accepted._

_“Alright, I’ll indulge you. Just this once.”)_

While she’s never had the biggest appetite, Weiss is able to scarf down two and a half plates of stir fry before reaching for her bag of containers.

Ruby’s eyes widen as she watches Weiss. “Yang! You’re not seriously letting Weiss take all the leftovers!”

“There’s plenty for you to take to school tomorrow, Ruby,” Yang replies.

Weiss is quick to pipe in. “Besides, Ruby, it’s not like you didn’t just eat three plates by yourself.”

“I’m a growing girl!” Ruby shoots back defensively, her hands raised melodramatically above her head.

“You’re seventeen!”

“It’s called second puberty, Weiss! Ester—esdre—esterdiol…” She pauses, thinks of her next sentence with a genuinely thoughtful expression: “Estrogen pills make you eat more!”

Weiss rolls her eyes as she moves to bring her plate to the sink where Yang is filling the basin. “ _Estradiol_ , Ruby. It’s not a hard word to say.”

“Maybe not for you, Mrs. Smarty Pants.”

“She’s got you there, Weiss!” Yang says with a chuckle, emphasizing her statement with a flick of water from her fingers that Weiss goes to shield herself from a moment too late; how she ever ended up spending so much precious time with these two dorks, she’ll never know.

Weiss slides her plate into the sink, careful not to get herself more wet than Yang’s already gotten her and picks up a dry dishcloth to help out. Behind her, Ruby stands from her seat and gets to work putting away the other utensils on the table and wiping it down.

“Thank you for dinner again, Yang,” Weiss offers as she begins to dry a plate.

Yang smirks cleverly. “Well, I know how much you love KD, but—”

“It’s not ‘KD’, it’s a special low-salt brand.” She slides the plate into the dishrack and scoffs. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps inviting me over for dinner to brag about your cooking.”

“It’s true,” Yang says neutrally, though her grin spreads wider. “And you just keep coming back for more.” Then, with the most obnoxiously coy of winks: “So are you gonna make me cook a meal for you and Pyrrha, too?”

Weiss reaches out, ready to swat at Yang for the comment, but it’s too late: Ruby is closing the fridge door, her eyes wide and her smile wider.

“Oh! Oh! Does Weiss have a girlfriend?” she announces rather than inquires, her voice loud enough to reach the neighbours. Ruby’s eyes fall quickly to Yang, whose expression is one she’s worn countless times before when she’s about to torment Weiss. (maybe Weiss shouldn’t have made that comment about the milkshake yesterday…)

True to form, Yang winks at her and turns to Ruby, her hands not leaving the sink. “Not yet, but she’s come to me in her hour of need since she’s absolutely useless when it comes to getting a girlfriend.”

“Yang, please.”

“Remember Emerald?”

“Yang.”

“Oh, and then that so-close-to-a-fling with Velvet?”

“Yang!”

“Oh! But she dated Neptune for more than a week!”

Weiss scoffs. “Ruby, don’t make me gag.”

Beside her, Yang stifles a snicker that Weiss reaches over to swat her for before turning her attention back to the dishes that remained ignored as she once again had to put up with the cruelty of these two sisters.

Still, she can’t help but allow a blush to spread across her cheeks as Yang murmurs something about Pyrrha and returns to the dishes. The feeling in her fingers all but vanishes, and her eyes glaze over as she slips into more pleasant thoughts: thoughts about the musical ring of Pyrrha’s voice which Weiss finds far too endearing to not love, and the way she always seems so interested in the wellbeing of her friends, something Pyrrha knows Weiss appreciates. And, needless to say, her mind does wander slightly—for the absolute wholehearted briefest of moments—to her legs, long and toned and beautiful enough to make Weiss forget that she’s supposed to be drying dishes.

A plate makes its way firmly into her hands, shaking her from her daydream (maybe she did get a bit distracted, after all). Yang shoots her a glance, followed by another snicker that surely has something to do with the blush stinging her cheeks. 

She inhales sharply as she dries the plate and reaches for the next one when Yang stops for a moment, her expression taking on a surprisingly softer air.

“I don’t think I’d actually mind cooking for you two. It’d be a cute as hell date!” She passes the plate to Weiss, who dries it slowly as she stares forward at Yang expectantly. “But you’d absolutely have to ham it up. Ruby would be your dashing waitress, and one of you would absolutely be expected to pay compliments to the chef.”

It’s a lot to ask of Weiss—she’s never been one for gimmicks and goofs—but she can at least agree to part of it. And, well, she can’t say she’s not into the idea of taking Pyrrha out for dinner, even (especially) if Yang’s the one cooking.

She allows a faint smile to grace her lips as she puts the last plate away. Yang’s wearing that look on her face; it’s different from the teasing expression she had on just a few minutes ago, and a bit more forlorn than the soft smile of before. Weiss can’t say she’s seen it a lot, but she absolutely knows what it means.

“Well, if you end up ever finding someone too, Yang, I hope you cook for her every night.”

“Whoa, every night? Weiss, I have a life, you know!” Yang raises her hands to her chest as if in offense, and of course only Yang could ruin a moment with her melodrama.

Ruby offers a small snicker as she leaves for the living room, phone already out in her hand. The three of them settle into a comfortable silence, the draining of water in the sink and the soft music of Yang’s playlist the only sounds in the air. Yang leans against the counter, her expression wistful as her gaze settles on the leftovers for her and Ruby on the kitchen counter.

Suddenly, she bolts upright. “Hey, you guys don’t mind if I step out for a bit, right? Gonna go for a walk.”

Weiss frowns slightly; Yang’s spontaneity isn’t new to her, but she doesn’t think she could ever get used to it. A quick sigh escapes her lungs and she moves to collect her bag. “I guess I probably should be getting home eventually…”

“Great!” Yang exclaims. “Ruby, you can take her, right?”

Ruby’s head peers up from over the couch. “Sure!”

Yang moves swiftly as she readies herself far too excitedly for her walk, and Weiss pretends not to notice how she quickly grabs her swim bag, though she’s understandably confused when she slips a container of stir fry into her bag as well…

*

Yang has always loved the way the moon reflects on the ocean. She’s always loved how the waves sound almost more at peace with the night, and how the stars dance just within her reach on the water. The darkness of the night has never scared her, never kept her away; in fact, sometimes she feels more drawn to the night than anything else. (It’s never scared her, and she likes to think it could never hurt her.)

At the very least, it’s as warm a night as she could hope for, and as she kicks her sandals off and steps into the soft waves, she remembers just how cool it is against her warm skin, already somewhat clammy from the walk to the beach. Sure, she could have been…maybe a bit _subtler_ with her exit, but it was either that or risk having Ruby offer to drive her (which in hindsight may not have been the absolute worst idea if it weren’t for the merm— _Blake_ ).

Her eyes scan the rolling waves, searching for any indication of Blake’s presence. She’s not expecting to see anything, of course, not with the deep black of the water, but she’s sure she must be here, if wishful thinking is anything to go by.

She grips the container in her swimming bag, careful not to loosen the lid and silently hoping to herself that she’s not being an idiot by coming out to the beach with a full container of stir fry in hopes of impressing her new mermaid friend into maybe considering kissing her.

Moments pass, and Yang wishes she could lose herself in the soft sound of the water instead of her focus falling to every misshapen wave that could be a tail or a fin or something. The moon slowly rises over her, its argent shine a beacon in the night drawing Yang further into the water. She stops once the water reaches her knees and wonders if it would just be better to keep following the silver glow into the night sky below her. (She would be lying if she said she didn’t want to feel that familiar glide of a tail against her calf.)

She backs out of the tide, slowly retreating from the moonlight, and when she thinks she’s for sure missed her chance for the night, turns away back towards the beach, completely surprised to see Blake lying halfway in the water, her tail mostly submerged as her eyes study Yang curiously.

Yang’s smile returns as she approaches her. “Well you’re looking radiant tonight.”

She’s met with a soft giggle. “You certainly took your time.”

“Well, Ruby saw I was making dinner and wanted some, and when I cook Weiss usually kills me if I don’t invite her.” Yang moves toward the dry sand and sets her bag down before removing her jean shorts; Blake’s eyes follow her movements, hurried and unattractive as they are, but the idea of having an audience does wonders for her confidence. 

Blake smirks, her eyes not leaving Yang’s legs as she pulls the container from the bag and steps back into the water. “You know, I wouldn’t mind meeting them someday. They seem like interesting people.”

“Isn’t that against, like, ‘mermaid code’ or something?” Yang jests as she lowers herself into the water beside Blake.

“Well, yes. Talking to humans in general is, but…” Her eyes dip towards Yang’s legs again, though her expression shifts. Yang can’t quite read it, can’t really decide if it’s somber or sarcastic, but decides not to prod (people keep their secrets, after all). Even had she wanted to, Blake is quick to change the subject when her eyes dart back to the container in Yang’s hands. “So what did you make?”

“Stir fry,” Yang offers as she removes the lid, immediately priding herself on her admittedly fantastic cooking skills when the smell reaches her nose. “Don’t know if you’ve ever had it.” Then, with a coy smirk: “I also brought a dinglehopper for you.”

Blake huffs in annoyance, but still isn’t able to keep herself from the stir fry for long. She takes the fork from on top of the vegetables and quickly picks at the meal, curiously prodding at the contents before pulling an assortment of vegetables, noodles, and chicken to her mouth.

Her amber eyes widen, and the glint of moonlight against them makes it even harder for Yang to not be immediately endeared to her reaction. “Shit,” she murmurs through a full mouth, “that’s really good!”

Yang leans back a bit, unable to keep herself from smiling (though she’s unsure if its with pride or joy). “I knew you’d like it. No one can resist a Xiao Long dinner!”

(If the realization of what she just said isn’t enough to make Yang blush, the combined expression of confusion, amusement, and coyness on Blake’s face most _definitely_ is.)

She leans forward again, adjusting herself and hoping she hasn’t caught her blush. She watches the way Blake’s tail flops slightly with each forkful, watches the content look on her face and the way her eyes fall to the silver waves as she chews, watches how her tail glistens like starlight and how the light of the moon dances across her midnight hair. Blake belongs to the night, and Yang is drawn even more to it than before.

Yang has to hold her hand back as it instinctively reaches for Blake’s hair, and instead it finds its way under the water to the wet sand behind her back. _This is good enough_ , she reckons, hoping that it is good enough, hoping that Blake won’t notice how she places her hand so close to her.

When Blake finishes, she lets out a satisfied sigh and leans back, and Yang is just quick enough to withdraw her hand. She lies back against the water and rests the container against her stomach, her eyes shutting for a moment before the trail over to Yang.

“Well? Final verdict?” Yang chirps confidently.

Blake hums thoughtfully for a moment, her fingers rapping against the container rhythmically. Yang watches as her tail glides against the water and as her tongue darts across her lips for the briefest of seconds before she closes her eyes again. “Could use more tuna.”

The laugh that escapes Yang’s mouth is heartier than she’d really intended. “Geez, Blake, when you said you ate tuna I didn’t know it was like the only thing you ate!”

“A girl’s allowed to have a favourite!” Blake shoots back as she rises onto her elbows. “Isn’t stir fry, like, yours?”

“Ruby’s, actually,” she explains as she takes the container and rinses it in the ocean, “but at least she mixes it up from time to time.”

Blake’s lips press into a thin line. “I meant what I said. I think you could do wonders with tuna stir fry.”

Yang pulls the container from the water and wipes it down with her tank top. “I could probably make that happen.” She gets to her feet and makes her way back towards her bags on the beach, packing away the container in her swim bag before turning back to Blake just in time to see her roll onto her stomach, her hair dangling just above the water as her tail dips in and out of the dark water.

“So, you coming in?”

Her eyes go wide, and _damn_ if that blush on her cheeks isn’t stubborn. The way Blake’s eyes persist on her own and how her lips almost seem fuller when they press into a suggestive smirk sends off alarms in her ears, red flags in her eyes, but Yang’s nothing if not attracted to danger.

“I really shouldn’t go swimming after eating,” Yang challenges, her feet already bringing her closer to the shoreline as she lets her sweater slide onto the sand behind her.

“Yang Xiao Long, you’re a swimmer with a record to beat,” Blake accepts the challenge, takes it a step further. “Or maybe there’s another reason you showed up in your bathing suit.”

She’s halfway into the water already when Blake starts swimming around her, her face to the sky and her eyes following Yang on her circuit. Yang can’t help but see the stars falling around Blake like ornaments, small flecks of light that reflect in the purple scales of her tail and dance in her curious eyes.

The water is under her chin and she finally lets her feet leave the soft sand below her, bringing them up to tread water lightly. She floats against the night sky and feels her own hair spreading in the water, loose and free and light, and she swears she could float just a little further, a little longer; the night doesn’t scare her.

Her eyes peer over to Blake as she swims over, leveling herself in the water to see into Yang’s eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are, Blake?”

This time, it’s Blake’s turn to blush. “Well, yes, but…” She dips into the water, the lower half of her face obscuring the oh-so-obvious red spreading across her cheeks and jaw. 

Yang smirks, takes the challenge another step further. “You’re like the moon. You glow in the night sky, and the way stars fall around you is so…so…”

“So corny,” Blake conclude, finally resurfacing once her blush has vanished. “Where’d you learn that one?”

“It’s worked on other girls before,” Yang tells her with a shrug.

“Oh, so I’m getting your leftovers?”

“Well, you did like the stir fry.”

_Victory._

Blake can’t keep her smile hidden. It’s not coy, it’s not curious, and Yang wants to stop time for just a moment to capture that smile she’s not seen before. It’s the purest smile she thinks she’s ever seen, and the secrecy of it is all the more rewarding.

Yang’s smile is no less earnest, and she decides she likes that smile too much to just accept the one victory. “Have I ever mentioned your smile twinkles like the stars?”

“Stop!” Blake deflects, her smile stretching into a grin on the verge of a stifled laughter.

Yang turns herself upright to bring her face level with Blake’s. “And your eyes are like bigger, yellower stars that shine just as bright!”

An annoyed frown replaces the smile on her face. “Alright, I lied about not being a Siren. I will _absolutely_ eat you if you don’t stop.”

“Oh, be my guest!”

Blake freezes, every inch of her glistening skin turning a deep pink as the tendrils on her cheeks stiffen. Her eyes fixate on Yang, wide and shocked, and at first Yang can’t quite decide if it’s a good thing or a bad thing until she follows it up with a wink that’s received by several blinks as Blake clears her throat.

_Victory._

Then, a fleeting look. If Yang weren’t so hyperfixated on Blake’s expression in that moment she absolutely would have missed the way her head tilted downwards as her brow lowered, creasing in the center while obscuring her eyes from Yang as they darted out towards the reflection of the moon glistening against the waves.

Of course, Yang doesn’t miss it, but she doesn’t mention it. She knows she’s swimming in the middle of the night sky, surrounded by stars and darkness, and she should be lost where others would most certainly drown in secrets just out of reach. She isn’t scared of the night, never has been, but she is scared suddenly by her presence within it, how fragilely she floats inches away from the moon itself, and how disturbing the water around it could cause it to tremble, to shatter. 

_People keep their secrets._

Blake hums as if she’s picked up on Yang’s hesitancy. “Do you like the moon?”

“Yes.” It’s a quick answer, one she barely has to think about, not like the question she wants to ask. “Do you like the moon?”

Blake’s answer is just as abrupt. “I’ve always found it suffocating.”

“How so?” Yang finally asks, deciding it’s not such a bad question; if Blake’s offering this much, surely she won’t mind offering a bit more.

She turns to Yang with hesitancy, still trying to hide her eyes below her furrowed brow, and the panic starts to rise in Yang’s chest. The moon settles in the black water, cascading over Blake’s shoulders, unbroken.

“The night’s so dark, and you think the moon will light your way. Usually it doesn’t.” When she speaks next, her voice lowers to a whisper. “It’s easy to get lost in the night.”

“Is that how you wound up here?” Yang asks, taking it another step further.

That’s when Blake’s face softens, the somber air fallen from her eyes and lips. “No, actually. I followed the sun.”

“I take it you like the sun more?”

“Yeah,” she admits softly. “It’s freeing.”

Yang nods; now the light of the moon bounces off of her skin, and she wonders if she could ever get lost in the night.

Blake swims backwards, taking a sharp breath as she motions for Yang to follow her towards the pier not too far away. “So you’re bringing me tuna stir fry tomorrow night, right?”

“Is this how mermaids ask pretty girls on dates?” Yang jests as she follows suit.

“No,” she replies thoughtfully, “it’s just how I get pretty girls to give me free food.”

Yang smiles, knowing full-well she’d bring Blake free food any day if it meant she got to her call her ‘pretty’…except for one day, of course. “It’ll have to be some other night. I’m helping Weiss out with a…’swim thing’ tomorrow night.” She’s not sure why she doesn’t tell Blake that she’s ‘helping Weiss impress a girl she sometimes swims in competitions with and was paid in a milkshake for her services’ (other than the fact that it sounds like the lamest excuse she’s ever come up with to stand a girl up).

Surprisingly, Blake seems less disappointed than Yang would have expected as she nods coolly and smiles. “I understand. You sure you can spend a night without obsessing over me, though?”

“Please, you’re the one hounding me to skip out on this!” Yang shoots back with a snicker. “And I can’t exactly bring them here, after all.”

“No, you’re right,” Blake says as she turns back to look at the waves behind her. “I can go a whole day.”

Yang settles herself against one of the pier’s wooden supports, allowing her limbs a chance to rest from the treading. “You sure about that?” she teases, offering up her cheesiest smile as she flexes against the wood.

“You flatter yourself, Yang.”

*

When Yang returns home that night, it’s with aching limbs, tired eyes, and the surprise of Ruby still awake. She turns to Yang with a grin the moment she walks through the door, then as if remembering something her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth.

“Is Dad asleep?”

Ruby nods.

“Cool. I’m going to bed.”

Her sister steps quietly towards her, though her movements are surprisingly swift. “You’re soaking wet, Yang! Did you go to the beach without me? I’m supposed to be your counter!”

“Yeah,” Yang confirms, crafting the next part of her sentence in her head. “Sometimes a girl just needs to swim laps alone, Rubes.”

“Then how are you supposed to keep time?”

Her response is a playful snort and a ruffling of Ruby’s hair as her tired feet carry her upstairs. Ruby pulls out her phone immediately and returns to her spot on the sofa, and of course Yang has no reason to think anything of the focused way Ruby watches her head to her room.

*

She can’t do it.

Her legs are like jelly, and her elbows can barely hold up her shoulders against the desk as the prof rambles on and on about something-or-other that Yang is too tired to pay attention to. Two nights in a row, now, she’s been screwing up her sleep schedule. Two days in a row she’s been exerting herself, and she’s just feeling it now.

Yang may just have to risk the verbal walloping from Weiss to cancel on her plan.

She’s able to listen just enough when Sun nudges her shoulder (if only to show her something on his phone, but it does the trick). She can make herself pay attention, but when the class is dismissed and people start to leave, it takes almost all of her willpower to make herself stand.

Sun braces himself against her and offers his support as they exit the classroom. “You look like shit,” he mentions lightheartedly.

“Thanks, Sun,” she grumbles as she wipes the corner of her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Hey, can you do me a favour and remind me to stop staying up so late?”

“Depends, what are you staying up late for?”

(Yang absolutely can’t tell him that.)

Instead, she pulls the straps of her bag tighter and slows her pace; he slows to match hers. “I think I might just go nap somewhere. I’ll catch up with you later if that’s cool.”

“Sure, I’ll get you those notes! Catch you later, dude!” he exclaims as he wraps his arm around her tightly, maybe a little too tightly for someone this tired.

Yang watches him dart around the corner, making an unnecessary leap over a bench that looks like just the perfect spot to lie down for a moment. She makes her way over, slipping her bag off of her shoulders and readying herself for an uncomfortable but necessary little rest.

She can’t tell Sun. She can’t tell anyone. The first night, her mind raced with questions, theories, ideas, frustrating dead-ends. The last two nights, it’s only been restless excitement. Of course she knows it’s probably not so good for her to stay up late jittering with eagerness to see Blake again, or wondering what the rest of the ocean is like and daydreaming about exploring it with her. That doesn’t stop her from staying up until late thinking about those things with a grin plastered to her face.

Okay, so she’s probably way too into this girl. This girl she met all of three days ago. This girl who lives in the ocean and probably eats raw tuna. This girl with silky midnight hair and smooth, glistening skin and thoughtful amber eyes—almost like that girl standing further down the hallway watching her.

Yang blinks; the girl stays. 

She blinks again; the girl smiles.

“Blake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey fam! Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter! I'd hoped to get this fic running on a bi-weekly schedule (and I'll be trying to keep it that way from now on if life allows for it!) Thanks once again to [https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirDrawnDagger/pseuds/AirDrawnDagger](url) and [https://archiveofourown.org/users/justaddfiction/pseuds/justaddfiction](url) for beta-reading this chapter, and for all of your wonderful comments on the last chapter! I'm having a blast writing this fic and I hope y'all are having a blast reading it, so stay tuned for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Bam! Mermaid AU! So this was super spur-of-the-moment but now i'm sold on it and have plans so expect me to run with this idea and nothing else. Quick shout-outs to @justaddfiction for beta-reading this chapter and @AirDrawnDagger for helping me name it cause I'm miserable at naming things. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and doubly hope I can get the next chapter to y'all soon!
> 
> Oh and @TheWalkingSwen this is for you cause you love mermaids and made me wanna do something for Mermay. Here ya go!


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